You and I
by WhereverUAre
Summary: Stiles tires of being so dispensable to the pack and Derek that he leaves town without telling anyone the real reason that forced him to leave. Mpreg, Sterek, m/m. Might be upgraded to M soon. Non-Canon.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I changed the age of the characters. The gang is in their senior year and all of them are 18 years old. There might be a few more details that are not Canon but I claim artistic liberty . Enjoy.

* * *

Stiles did not know where he was when he woke up. It was dark room and from what he could tell, there were no windows. There was also an old metallic stench in the air that made him cringe. He felt dirty and sticky; when he tried to move, all of what happened to him came back.

He was pinned to the chair with a jagged knife driven through his leg. It could not have been more than ten minutes since Gerard forced it into his leg , but the black dots hazily raced across his vision and the irrationality of the entire situation made him feel like it was a lifetime. It probably had something to do with the strange syringes that Gerard had initially pulled out but it was too much work to think about all that now.

Instead Stiles forced himself to focus on more important things. He was going to die in this basement. Erica and Boyd were still strung up and being electrocuted so they were of little help but at least he would not be alone when he died. If they managed to escape at some point, his dad would know what happened to him. His dad deserved better than wondering if his hyper active son had just taken off or was maybe killed in a hit and run or by some random Satan worshiper. His dad, at the very least deserved an explanation about what happened to his only son.

Well he was going to die now. _Eighteen_ and dying. He had just received his acceptance into Berkeley. His dad would find it when he would clear the room of his dead son and it would kill him.

Stiles was going to die without telling Derek about how he felt. Derek would never know that Stiles was irrevocably in love with him. Derek would never find out that Stiles held him up in that pool for two hours not because of fear of the Kanima but out of fear that he wouldn't be able to live in a world where there was no Derek. Derek only smelt the fear rolling off Stiles and assumed that it was because of giant killing lizard. Worst of all, Stiles was going to die a virgin.

Scott is going to lose his oldest friend. Stiles hazily wondered if Scott would take out the time to realise that or quickly replace him with his new werewolf buddy.

Lydia won't have anyone to reach to help her because, like him, she didn't know how to ask for help. He soon understood that and tried to help her whenever he could, when she didn't know that she could always find solace with him. Well, you don't know what you've got till it's gone.

He hoped that Jackson would at least now realise the value of having Lydia Martin in your life and treat her the way she deserved.

Stiles chastised himself immediately for thinking about Jackson Whittemore in his last minutes. He could feel the puddle of blood stemming from his thigh and pooling near his feet. He didn't have much time left.

Stiles prayed to whoever could possibly be listening that he could once again see his mother. This whole dying young and as a virgin would be completely and utterly worth it if it meant he could see his mother again. Even it meant just a glimpse, if it meant he could be closer to her, it would be totally worth it. He did feel a little guilty about picking his mother over his father but it had just been_ so_ long and he missed her so much that it ached. He could picture her face and hear her voice in his head.

The pain finally started fading and the world around him was growing darker. He could barely hear the sounds of distress coming from Boyd and Erica; he couldn't even hear the sounds of the wires shooting electricity into them. The sound of his mother calling him was growing louder, it would all be better now. If dying meant seeing his mother again, dying was not all that bad anymore. He could his hear his mother clearly now. Oddly, he could hear his dad as well. Maybe he could see his parents again. It had been a while since he had seen the both of them together. And then darkness took over.

* * *

When stiles first woke up, he was quite surprised that he could feel so much pain and the smell of the place was less than pleasant. Antiseptic, that's what the smell was! The disgusting smell that plagued him for years! Maybe he would meet his mother where he had seen her last. He eagerly tried to look around but could feel that his movements were so much more sluggish than he intended them to be. He couldn't even see his surroundings properly and he could hear a low indistinguishable noise. Oh well! He had just died! Excuse him for not having HD vantage point on everything.

But if he were dead he wouldn't be in so much pain and he could see the outlines of a few familiar faces hovering over him, blurring one second and sharp in another. There was an acrid beeping noise that seemed to fill his ears. Before he could figure out what exactly happened, the lights dimmed out and he fell into an uneasy slumber.

Stiles finally woke up and realised that he had not in fact died in that horrid basement. He was in a hospital, attached to an insane number of machines. The most unsettling sight in this scenario was his father, looking so defeated and crumpled in a chair next to his bed. He tried to reach out to his dad and find out why his dad looked so crumpled but realised that he was restrained to the bed. A weak whimper that made Stiles hate himself escaped his mouth and jolted his dad like electricity.

"Stiles! Son, you're alright! It's going to be fine now. No one can hurt you anymore. Melissa! He's awake! Just stay awake for a little longer ok? Let the doctor get a look at you."

Stiles painfully realised that it was taking a lot more work than he anticipated listening to his dad. His dad hadn't stopped talking and was trying to keep him focused on staying awake but the painkillers, Stiles realised, were slowly lulling him to sleep. He tried to focus on the things around him.

His entire left leg was hanging in front of him in a cast. He could feel wires and tubes attached to him and making him feel itchy all over. Something on his face was making itchy too! His doctor was in the room and was checking all the monitors that were relentlessly beeping around him. He could see his dad's lips move. With some effort, Stiles focused.

* * *

It had been two weeks since he woke up in the hospital and he was finally home again. As much as it pleased Stiles that he wasn't adding to the already huge hospital bill that his insurance won't be able to fully cover he was soon realizing that staying at home would be quite rough on him.

For starters, he lived on the second floor and the kitchen was on the lower floor. It was okay now that his father was carrying trays of food up and down the stairs but Stiles fully intended to send his dad back to work tomorrow. His damaged leg was going to pose a rather large problem. He could barely manage to limp from his bedroom to bathroom. And that was after hours of extensive PT. Well, one problem at a time, one day at a time he told himself. He was out of the stupid wheel chair and was now promoted to struggle with crutches! That had to count for something right ?

Today, focus on convincing dad to go back to work. Stiles could see that his injuries and recovery were causing his dad a lot of pain. The constant circuits between work, the hospital and home were rather draining and on top of that he would spend the day with Stiles and take a night shift every day. He was rather running himself to the ground. Now being able to go to work in the day would at least ensure his dad some time to sleep at night.

His dad was just taking too much onto himself. It had been his dad who went frantic that his son was missing. It was his dad who figured out how to track him. It was his dad who rescued him and his dad who was there when he woke up.

As thankful as Stiles was for his dad, he couldn't help but resent the pack. He had literally given his blood, sweat and tears for those destitute werewolves and turns out that saving Stiles was quite low on their priority list.

Of course, Scott did visit with Isaac and Allison in tow. He apologised about not being there to rescue Stiles. Supposedly, there was a lot of Jackson to save and even after the Sheriff arrested Gerard; he escaped from prison with all his freaky hunter skills to turn up at a warehouse where an epic show down took place. End story was that the Jackson was a werewolf now and had joint Derek's pack. The only part Stiles picked up from this story was that Lydia was back with Jackson for what looked like forever,He was more than dispensable to the stupid werewolves and Gerard argent is now dead.

After that he didn't see much of Scott except the occasional texts asking to meet and the almost immediate cancellation of the plans because something important i.e. Allison had com e up. And stiles anyway didn't have anything better to do than wait for Scott to grace him with his presence.

Lydia showed up as well and Stiles pretended to sleep when she visited. Though Stiles was pretty sure that he was no longer in love with the Lydia Martin, but she was a painful reminder that he was once again not needed and was pitifully dispensable.

Not even Derek had shown up to talk to him neither in the hospital nor at home. But Stiles had the slightest suspicion that it was not what it seemed to be. On multiple occasions, he remembered waking up to the smell of leather and something he associated with the woods. When he would look around there would of course be no evidence of a dark brooding werewolf in his hospital room. Stiles also remembered that every once in a while, maybe after a too rigorous PT session or a small panic attack and he was drifting off to sleep with no one around, he could feel someone hold his hand or stroke his forehead . And every time he would feel something like that, he would wake up to the smells that he so strongly associated with Derek. He let himself dwell on that thought for a weak moment before reality crashed onto him. Whatever regret Derek was showing now was immaterial in the evidence that showed that Stiles was less than important to him when it actually came to saving his life.

It was rather odd when Stiles thought about it. After all that he did on a daily basis for each of them, when it came to choosing between saving the life of Jackson or the life of Stiles, everyone seemed to have chosen Jackson. That either meant that Jackson was a nicer person than Stiles thought he was or Stiles' life was just that irrelevant.

Stretching his leg in front of him, Stiles slowly pulled his blanket over himself and tried to fall asleep. And once again, right before he was completely asleep, he felt someone pull the sheets up to his shoulders and slowly stroke his forehead.

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**A/N: First of all, A big BIG thanks to my wonderful Beta, none of this would be possible without you!**

**And to the readers, thank you so much for reading my story! Please do leave a review! I'm open to ideas and suggestions. **

**More reviews make me a more regular updater :D**

**Thanks ! **


	2. Chapter 2

Every day before leaving to work, the Sheriff would help Stiles; whether it was to the bathroom or restocking the new mini fridge in Stiles' room with the sad excuse for food the hospital told him to eat because they thought it wouldn't react to the drugs that Gerard injected Stiles with. After, he would then leave the painkillers on Stiles' desk and leave for work reluctantly.

Stiles knew that his dad was still trying to pay for his mother's hospital bills and knew that his dad couldn't afford to miss work. Besides, Stiles hated his father worrying about his new limitations. Nevertheless, Stiles would curl up around his laptop till his father came back from work, moving only when he needed to go the bathroom.

Every night when Stiles was about to fall asleep, he would glance around the room and try to memorize were everything was. It was when he woke up that he noticed some clutter rearranged differently, mostly the mess around his computer chair. This evidence showed that a particular someone was still looking out for him when he was his weakest and this gave Stiles more hope and reassurance than it should have, even helping sleep easier at night.

However, today was not one of those nice days. The Sheriff left in quite a hurry and left the food he normally got for Stiles on the dining table in the kitchen. This normally wouldn't have been more than an inconvenience for Stiles because he was on crutches now and he could make it up and down the stairs but today his leg was throbbing around the scar and hurling a storm at his head. He could feel parts of his brain lighting up like a Christmas tree.

Stiles did not even bother trying to get up from the bed. If failed in his attempt to get some food to take his painkillers, no one would be around to give him a hand. It would be quite some time before his dad would come back from work. Stiles normally really held off calling his dad for help but today the pain was really getting a bit too much and he ached everywhere. He quickly looked around to see that his phone was on his desk. That was a lot of limping to reach a flimsy phone. He could feel his sweat soaked sheets sticking to his skin while the room starting to tilt at an odd angle and his vision grew this weird yellow blur.

He quickly leaned over the edge of his bed and heaved everything that seemed to suddenly be pressing against the back of his throat. After he felt like he couldn't possibly throw up anything else, he clumsily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and fell against his pillows and slipped into a nightmare filled sleep.

* * *

Stiles woke up to someone shaking his shoulder and softly calling his name. His head was still hurting and so was his throat after that less than pleasant upheaval. The pain in his leg did quite the wreck on him. A small whimper escaped before he could stop it. He didn't want his dad to be more worried and guilty than he already was. Suddenly, Stiles realized something was off. His dad never woke him up like that. He would either scream from his room or knock on his door till he woke up. Stiles' dad had never walked into Stiles' room to shake him till he woke up. Not after his mother's death at least.

Hazily opening his eyes, slightly frightened about who could have snuck into the house, he was shocked to see a familiar set of green (sometimes red) eyes looking at him with what he could have easily mistook for concern. Stiles let out the breath he didn't know he was holding. Of all the crazy people who could sneak into his room and kill him, Derek was someone he wasn't so worried about. Yes, the man could have made a professional career out of roughing up Stiles but his abusive behavior had decreased exponentially. As a matter of fact, Stiles couldn't remember the last time Derek had knocked him into a wall or threatened him. At the same time, after his time with Gerard, Stiles wasn't as scared of being knocked unconscious as he used to be. Derek, his unrelenting demands for information and minor injuries and threats, Stiles could handle.

"You need to eat something. I found this in the fridge with your name on it. Do you need help to sit up and eat it?"

Stiles, no matter how pained, stubbornly shook his head and pushed himself up. Derek, in unprecedented sync, arranged the pillows to help Stiles sit more comfortably. Stiles looked at Derek in silence as if he had lost control of every possible part of his body when Derek dumped a bowl full of an unknown, murky substance in his lap and said "Eat."

It hadn't been more than half an hour since he fell asleep. Why did Derek pick now after all these days to help Stiles?

Stiles struggled to keep the tasteless food from rising up again while Derek handed him the pills he took with every meal. Stiles tried to catch Derek's eyes but he ignored the gesture. This was a betraying act that Derek had been lurking around enough to know the exact combination of pills he took. He had even added the pill that Stiles only took around five in the evening. Derek took to clearing the dishes and helping Stiles lay down again. Stiles, already hazy from the medication, shifted under his sheets to notice that his puddle of sickness had been cleaned. His head was buzzing with all these questions and accusations, but when he felt Derek dim the lights, draw the curtains and gently stroke Stiles' forehead, Stiles drowsily let it go. For now, this was everything he had wanted.

* * *

Derek leaned away from the bed when Stiles nodded off again. He could practically hear questions buzzing in Stiles' head. Derek knew that soon he would have to get around answering all those questions, but for now, he just wanted to savor this moment. He was in a warm, lived in room, with Stiles in such undeniable vicinity. It was some sort of weakness that Derek craved so much but couldn't seem to attain no matter how many needy teenagers he turned.

Derek settled into Stiles' computer chair and stretched his legs onto the foot of Stiles' bed. He had been finding home in this chair every day since the incident. He would sneak in here after Stiles was asleep to reassure himself that Stiles was still alive and fighting.

Derek had realized that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stay away from Stiles Stilinski. At the same time he had realized another thing. His world was first made of his family, his pack. That word just mean completely different things now and then his world was made of the beautiful Kate Argent.

This beautiful dream like world was ripped away from him before he could even begin to realize its true value. Then it was just him and Laura. The regular visits to Uncle Peter had kept them sane. That was his world, Laura and Uncle Peter, but that too was ripped away from him. The literal meaning a tad too close for comfort, but alas, it was gone. Derek realized that he ruined everything he touched and despite the overwhelming need to be a part of Stiles life he knew that he couldn't let Stiles suffer like everyone he had ever cared for. He could ever live with the guilt of hurting Stiles.

Derek suppressed a smile, who would have ever thought that this pale, jittery boy could wrap Derek around his finger. Derek knew though, that this was no ordinary crush. The need to be Stiles was overwhelming and distance too punishing. He had proof of this. When he was in the pool held up only by Stiles, Derek recognized something he was in denial for some time. Stiles smelled overwhelmingly close and wonderful that meant only one thing in Derek's head. Mate. The minute after realizing what Stiles truly meant to him, he smelled something else rolling off of Stiles. Undiluted fear, Derek had robbed Stiles of his innocence or at least what was left of it. So when Derek understood that letting Stiles in would only hurt him more, he struggled to keep his distance. So when he didn't hear from Stiles for a couple of days Derek had sadly assumed that Stiles was sick of waiting for Derek.

Only later did Derek realize that it wasn't stiles giving up on him, it was the Argents once again taking away what Derek held so dear. So when Derek heard about the death of the Argent lady, he couldn't help but feel a little glad… the fewer Argents in the world, the better.

So he banned his pack from visiting Stiles, if they realized that he was their alpha's mate they would definitely force Stiles into taking Derek more seriously, but he was so afraid of what could happen to Stiles.

He had thought about asking Scott to stay away from Stiles as well but, Derek noticed that was not necessary. Scott was wrapped up in his little world made of self pitying, Allison and himself that he did not see or refused to involve himself with Stiles' problems. Derek duly noted that Scott never the less had any issues calling on Stiles for help. He never did understand why Stiles kept dealing with Scott. Somehow that just added to everything that made Stiles, Stiles.

Well, for now all the questions would have to wait. Stiles would probably sleep for another hour or two and Derek would sneak out moments before Stiles opens his eyes. It wasn't nearly enough, but Derek would have to make do with what little he has.

* * *

Stiles was seething with rage right now. He had enough and just a little more. He was sick and tired of the stupid games Derek was playing with him. One minute he cared about Stiles enough to sneak into his room, clean his puke, feed him food and meds and watch him fall asleep and then the next minute he was indifferent enough to ignore his texts and calls for two weeks! For two weeks, Derek had avoided hid room and ignored Stiles Stiles was just about done with Derek's broody behaviour! How hard is it to answer a fucking phone compared to cleaning up puke!

Stiles parked his jeep in his usual spot near a trail to Derek's house. He stomped his way through angrily not noticing the full moon shining above him.

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**A/N:Thanks to my wonderful Beta! YOU ARE AMAZING . Also a huge hhuge thanks to everyone who has read, reviewed or liked this story. Thank you so so much. Also remember that for every comment, a steamy sterek scene is being written. **


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